


The Thing About Honour

by jacks_destiel



Series: The Moments in Which We Can Pretend [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 09:56:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8367988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacks_destiel/pseuds/jacks_destiel





	

It was years later, but it wasn't the first time that the conversation had come up. It was often rehashed and revised versions of the same questions and answers; they were always made in the quiet afterglow of the night, when neither of the men could be damned to move from the bed or remember the accusations and confessions in the morning. This was, however, the farthest that the questions had gone.

"Why?" It always started out the same. The dark-haired man made no obvious allusions to what he was questioning, but the blond knew.

"I was terrified." It was beginning to sound like a bad excuse, except it was the only truth that he had.

"There had to have been other options." There might have been, but it was too late for the what ifs.

"I was sixteen years old." The words came out shaky tonight, as if both men knew that this would not be the end of the conversation this time.

"And?" The blond nearly flinched. Tears threatened to break the cold, Slytherin mask of indifference that had protected him for so many years.

"He threatened my family. Honestly, there were days when I decided that Father could go to hell for all I cared, but threatening Mother always worked," the blond replied calmly. There were deep breaths, but the tears were coming; the mask was going to break.  
"She was my everything. I would have done anything for her." The last few words caught in his throat, and his voice wavered, threatening.

"But Dumbledore-" The mask shattered.

"I was sixteen bleeding years old!" There was so much anger. His lover didn't really deserve it, but the conversation was a long time coming.  
"Dumbledore had never offered a kind word in my direction! Honestly, if Severus had been your only option, would you have gone to him?" It was a low blow.  
"Could you have swallowed your pride and risked the lives of your family? Those Weasles, who you care so bloody much about?" The blond watched the dark-haired man flinch, and whatever fleeting feeling of vindictive pride that he felt vanished.

He reached across the sheets for his lover with an unsteady hand. How had they ended up so far apart anyhow? Green eyes filled with hurt looked back at him along with a bottom red lip that quivered in unexpressed emotion.  
"Harry."

The man in question took his lover's hand, and he was pulled snug against the blond's bare chest.  
"Harry, I didn't mean it." He held his partner there, trying to give back some warmth. He rested his chin in wild black locks, wrapping his arms around the fragile man, wanting to protect him from everything.

Harry was quiet. He nuzzled into his lover's chest, failing to keep the tears at bay.  
"I'm sorry, Draco."

"What are you apologizing for, love?" The apology was new, and frankly it scared Draco. He could handle the fiery attitude or the cold silence of an angry Harry, but a quiet and timid one was worse somehow.

"It was a long time ago. I- I won't bring it up again." His lover sounded- broken.

"I love you." Tell me how to fix this.

Harry snuggled deeper into the other man's arms, and strayed only to fix the comforter of the bed around them.  
"I love you too, Dragon." His breathing had evened out, and he placed a chaste kiss to the blond's chest. He wrapped himself around his lover's waist.  
"I promise." Nothing to fix. We're okay.


End file.
